verivery gyehyeon x hoyoung

three strikes and you're out 

hoyoung is given three chances to win over the enigmatic gyehyeon

~ inspo ~

daisyvisions "the boyz as types of tropes" on tumblr

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    Hoyoung cradled the cup against his bare chest. He was extra paranoid that his drink would get snatched tonight which, when looking at his fear through a bigger lens, who in their right mind would steal a fraternity member's beer? 'Most people aren't in their right mind,' Hoyoung reminded himself, cautiously taking a sip and scanning the patio and adjacent pool area. 'Everyone's as drunk as can be.'

   As if on cue, a herd of college boys threw themselves into the water, disrupting a game of volleyball that was more or less just launching a ball over a net as fast as possible, hoping to nail someone in the nose. Water splattered across the limestone patio, nearly upturning lawn chairs and effectively driving off any girls eyeing the boys who leapt in. Hoyoung found the scene amusing; what guys ended up doing to impress women were nothing short of hysterical, with a pinch of idiocy. The boy shimmied himself up onto a barstool and let his eyes wander.

   His fraternity decided to kick off the returning school year with a monstrous pool party. Everyone with relations to a fraternity member were allowed in, and those who were causing too much of a ruckus were thrown out. Alpha Veri Rho - AVR as the boys liked to say - prided themselves because they were bestowed with the title of the 'Chillest Frat on Campus', going as far as hanging a custom wooden sign on the front door, carved in blocky letters the very same name. They hosted parties, but they never attracted the police. They held fundraisers and rallies, garnering crowds like moths to an open flame. Their entrances exams were education based; they wanted to see what you knew, not how long you can chug beer whilst doing a handstand. And while all these marvelous attributes and practically perfect qualities boosted their egos, they made sure it didn't get the best of them. Hoyoung, president of AVR, made it his mission to honor the legacy of the house's honor, to build upon his actions as a leader and to modernize them to fit into today's society, one of which was to never let one's arrogance rise above his mind. To have a clear, level, and sound understanding of oneself and the desires of his brothers.

   Hoyoung felt a balloon of worthiness swell behind his ribcage. He's worked hard for this position, and being elected by his brothers was unimaginable. He didn't think the day would come. It felt too powerful, too unobtainable for a boy as clueless as him. Yet, his brothers put their faith in his hands, and Hoyoung locked it away, safe from the eyes and ears of others. He swore to protect his house, his brothers, and to live up to all the other presidents that ruled before him. And yet, even though he has but a hair more influence than his housemates, the others look up to him like a god, a king among mortals, some immortal being that can turn silver into diamond. This made him smile; he loved his fraternity. It gave him a home miles away from the real one, and he couldn't be more thankful for the brother that surrounded him now.

   "Did you see how I bent Hwanwoong's nose sideways?!" Yongseung shouted at Hoyoung.

   The older clapped a hand over his ear. "You don't need to yell, I'm right here, God."

   The thin boy simply shrugged. "But then his girlfriend tried pinning me underwater because, you know, they're crazy protective over each other, when Hwanwoong yanked her off of me and decided to finish the -"

   Hoyoung tuned his friend out, it would save him the mental capacity. He searched the crowd for his other friend, both of which were the closest people in Hoyoung's life, aside from his older sister. He watched drunk men dive into the pool, tipsy adults slapping a volleyball yet missing and smacking the water, people sandwiched around the shallow end of the pool laughing and kissing. The water sparkled like crystal, the lanterns sprinkled around the patio flared orange and hazy yellows, the limestone glittered slick with liquid Hoyoung didn't want to think too long about, and soggy dollar bills sagged over the lip of a massive jar, spent and content. A night sky thick with clouds loomed overhead, curiously gazing upon the party and letting out distant, thundering chuckles.

   "Where's Minchan? I haven't seen him all night," Hoyoung asked, discarding his cup. His drink began to taste stale.

   "Minchan?" Yongseung paused as if in thought, but Hoyoung knew the younger was just so scatter-brained that he had to shove aside conversations, shift through durnken memories. "Oh, he's with his partner. He should be getting back...Found him!"

   Yongseung flung out a finger that pointed towards the exit. The rock wall that encased the party - or at least attempted to - broke off for a weathered, wrought iron gate that shrieked when it opened. Minchan had his back turned, the tan expanse of skin covered by the wandering hands of his partner. The former looked deep into an exciting conversation with another man, one with a round face and deep brown hair. Hoyoung looked to the the brown haired man's right, and his breath stuck to his lungs.

   This man walked out of a painting, no, a Roman statue turned human, not that, a constellation of a warrior made of bone and flesh. Hoyoung's mind whirled; he tried desperately to compare the blonde headed man to something, anything, but it all died on the his tongue. Legs that looked like quartz pillars, a generous hill of a behind, the barest hint of a sculpted chest, lean arms that surely hid wondrous muscle, a neck so pure it shone like an angel's crown, and a face that surpassed words. It knotted Hoyoung's stomach, curled his toes, cinched his chest by the strings of his heart, shriveled his lungs, popped open his mouth, toppled his eyes out of his skull onto the ground. Hoyoung felt like he was drifting through space while also chasing after a butterfly, pushing himself to the extreme yet restraining himself with all his might. His knuckles burned white. His breathing returned in flimsy puffs.

   Never has Hoyoung ever felt something like this. It felt like hitting a home run, yet he was the baseball, soaring through the air and knifing a line through the sky. He felt free, the wind lapping at his face, yet saw the ground hurdling towards him, ready to capture him in a painful hug.

   Yongseung noticed, and barked out a loud laugh.

   "You can't be serious."

   It took several blinks from the latter to bring Hoyoung to.

   "What?" Hoyoung said, his voice now embarrassingly hoarse.

   Yongseung looked at him with eyes the size of dinner plates. "You're meaning to tell me that you never, in your three years of attending his place, seen him before."

   How Hoyoung could be read like that, so easily, irked him.

   "What is he, some campus idol," He paused, eyes pulled back to the blonde by some otherworldly force, like he was a magnetic and Hoyoung was a helpless scrap of metal. "A superstar...besides, so what if I haven't? This could mean something. Fate waited until this moment to push us together."

   "He's across the fucking patio."

   "Don't give me sass. What has your panties in a bunch, Seung?" When Hoyoung didn't get a verbal response, he burst into snickers like a fizzing firework. "Oh my God, you were rejected by him! Holy shit this is good blackmail. Yongseung, the man who gets whoever he's after, was denied a night with one of the most handsome -"

   Yongseung suctioned a hand over Hoyoung mouth; the latter's eye's creased into a bright smile.

   "You are so bad at putting things together, it's no wonder you refuse to help at the summer camp." Yongseung sighed. "We've talked, and that's the end of it. He's a good guy, smart and plays baseball. A mean pitcher if you ask me. He knows Minchan from freshman year."

   The boy paused, swiped dried black hair from his face. Hoyoung's smile-eyes didn't cease.

   "I haven't slept with him. He's picky, hard to get. I have nothing against him, but I know how you are, Hoyoung. Once you find something that makes you melt, you crave for it night and day. I've seen it happen every year. I just am warning you, he's...feisty. Like a fox, or a lynx. I just want to make sure you know full well what you're diving into."

   Yongseung settled back onto his stool and removed his hand. Hoyoung's smile was still there, only instead of jeering slash of a smile, it was a deep gash that ran across his face, a ravine that flickered at the edges. It was determination, the confident set of his mouth and the calculating slant of his brows, that drove Yongseung off towards Minchan. The former whispered something into his ear, watched the frizzy brunette jolt with laugh, then part ways with the two newcomers. Hoyoung watched the brown headed one clasp the handsome boy's arm, exchange short words, then vanish into the party.

   The handsome blonde was left alone, and a sudden urge crashed into Hoyoung to go and keep him company, but a subtle cant of the blonde's hip, a fingering of his bangs, and he set off into the party, head held high and steps parting the crowd like an invisible hand. Hoyoung shamelessly stared. He couldn't help it, everything about the blonde was mesmerizing, as if he were a siren luring sailors. The blonde must have noticed Hoyoung - who wouldn't, realistically - for he lifted his eyes to meet the older's. The world slowed, and the blonde sent him a wolffish grin. Hoyoung's vision split into two, like fragments of glass. The blonde watched with bright eyes and smiled wider, forming a smirk that displayed pearly teeth trapping a sliver of tongue. The chair beneath the older fell away, and the party around him dissolved into only the blonde, for that was all that mattered.

   Then, as if someone flipped a lens, Hoyoung saw himself draped along the barstool, looking enervated yet vibrating with awe. He also saw the blonde unbutton his shirt, skillfully undress his torso, then dip into the pool with the grace of a ballet dancer. Every move felt precise, intentional, controlled. The blonde didn't let anyone get too close, slid away at the skim of another person's back, and hung himself from his elbows into the deep end. His fingers twirled the water, mixing it. Commanding it.

   Hoyoung's vision went blurry, and before he could take another breath, his legs propelled him off the stool and languidly made their way to the blonde. He had no control over his body anymore, his mind acted independent from his heart, as if the muscle took the reins of his soul and cracked then full of life. A lightning flashed through him, one of anticipation with a belly of nerves, and it sparked Hoyoung's veins with something molten, like if liquid gold ran through him. He felt...powerful, like the president of AVR.

   "What's someone as handsome as you doing sitting here all alone?" Hoyoung mused.

   The blonde turned with that same impish smile, as if he knew Hoyoung would succumb to his desires. "Just waiting for someone like you to keep me company. Care to join me?"

   The man gestured to the empty water next to him.

   If Hoyoung hadn't restrained himself, he would have saddled up to the man; yet, he remembered the blonde's uneasy glare at neighboring party goers, that hint of discomfort at the closeness of another person. So, Hoyoung peeled his tank top off, threw it behind him carelessly, and slinked into the water, careful to put a good distance between the two boys.

   The bite of the water returned Hoyoung's senses, for he felt himself disassociating after the blonde asked his question. The older looked up after settling into a comfortable position - one arm perched atop the filtering ledge, the rest dangling off the edge - and noticed the pink of the blonde's cheeks, the way his eyes seemed to eat up the distance between them like hungry sharks.

   "Am I too close?" Hoyoung tenderly asked. He didn't know why he was so soft, but it just felt right.

   "No, it's just..." The blonde paused to swallow. "It's just no one ever paid that much attention. Saw the little details."

   They locked eyes, and the blonde man smiled, a genuine turn of his cherry lips.

   "Well, let that be another reason I'm perfect for you." Hoyoung blurted out.

   The blonde heaved a great laugh, a guffaw that rocked his body to and fro.

   "I like you, you're so infatuated with me it's cute." The blonde rested his neck against his shoulder, exposing a tantalizing column of his throat. "Or perhaps you're drunk."

   "I am a bit of a lightweight," Hoyoung said. The blonde again laughed, and Hoyoung had to keep himself from squirming. "What's your name? I don't think I've ever seen you around campus."

   "Probably because I sleep in the dugout, but I'm Gyehyeon. You?"

   "Hoyoung."

   "Pretty."

   In all honesty, Hoyoung couldn't remember the rest of the night. It was a whirlpool of saucy smiles, chirping laughs, and looking-glass eyes. The two spent hours - and to Hoyoung it felt like days - perched on the concrete lip of the pool, simply talking. The older felt weightless, floating on clouds that carried daydreams and fantasies of Gyehyeon and his pillowy lips, suave retorts that left the man spiraling down, down into a well that he swan-dived into, a graceful attempt of catching those sultry eyes that had Hoyoung weak in the knees. Gyehyeon told stories of his baseball games, locker room hazing, nights spent howling around a table of greasy fast food and card games, taking shots of a condiment milkshake when one boy lost. How Hoyoung lived up to such tales, even elicited a chortle from the handsome boy, was a mystery; Gyehyeon found Hoyoung's fraternity adventures amusing, leaving him curious as to how a boy that reminded him of a love-struck elementary student climbed his way to the president's chair.

   "It's getting late, wouldn't want you to be the last one here, all alone with me," Hoyoung teased.

   Gyehyeon periodically inched closer, finding Hoyoung to be daring in a skittish way, like how a cat bats at their toys.

   Hoyoung felt the ghost of Gyehyeon's leg as he moved it to twine around the other. "And wouldn't that be awful, repulsive almost." Gyehyeon mimed a gag.

   "Yeah, couldn't imagine spending a little extra time with myself," Hoyoung said, pulling himself out of the water.

   Gyeheyon did the same, and Hoyoung barely registered through his enamored haze that the younger's swim shorts dragged down his hips, leaving gleaming swathes of skin winking back at him, like a magician pulling a clever trick.

   "Oh, enough with the self-deprecation, tonight was nice," Gyehyeon said lightly, reaching for the towel beneath his folded shirt. "It was a good change of pace, after having person after person rub up on me like a cat seeking attention."

   "Well, I'm glad I was able to break that train of discomfort," replied Hoyoung, greeting a genuine smile from the younger with a giddy grin, cracking the edges of his lips and squashing his cheeks like grapes, a burst of sweetness.

   When Gyehyeon moved to leave, Hoyoung flung out an arm, careful to remain as contactless as possible, yet as the latter opened his mouth to speak, Gyehyeon seized the question upon his tongue and swallowed it, morphing it into a sly jab:

   "If you think you've earned my number, try again. I'm not someone who succumbs easily, for I enjoy banter, it's the best way to get to know a person. How they carry themselves, sure, but I'm more focused on how you play along with my game."

   The handsome blonde strut forward and glided his hand down Hoyoung's arm, the action sending sparks down his bicep, a sleeve of stars and firecrackers bouncing along his arm.

   "You've got three strikes, and this is your first."

   How Hoyoung was able to walk himself to bed, let alone clean himself beforehand, was a miracle, a great feat even the strongest, mightiest of warriors wouldn't dream of trying. Sleep foregone him, he wouldn't claim a soul as restless as Hoyoung. Gyehyeon was a virus that took roost in his mind, a parasite so sweet and delicious that it sucked the life right from his tongue, a plague that withered away the very senses of Hoyoung's brain, his cognitive abilities reduced to that of a blubbering baby at the mere glimpse of the handsome blonde. He was like a mirage, with the fleeting feeling of a drug, yet the obsession of a teenage girl. Hoyoung was becoming a shell of what he once was, everything inside hollowed out to make room for the infatuation that slumbered inside him like a starving beast, for once it gets a whiff, nothing but the deep drum of Gyehyeon's voice and the faint stroke of his eyes able to sate the creature within.

   Everything felt so overwhelming, yet simple, colossal yet minute that when the day AVR's big public buffet crashed into him, Hoyoung did nothing more than let it carry him away, another green bean amongst the veggies served. AVR, like most fraternities on campus, pledged themselves to a charity, holding yearly fundraisers and events that drew people and advisors alike, crowding the tables like bees to pollen. They buzzed with flurry and elation, happily zipping about the simmering meats, charring veggies, moist fruits, and best of all, colorful desserts that looked plucked from a rainbow and dusted with glitter. They spilled along three tables, cookies so dense with chocolate chips they snapped in half and fell dramatically to the floor; cupcakes that beamed innocence and elegance, icing swirling towards any eye that gave them a chance; tarts swollen with vibrant jellies and compotes that the buttery pastry bracing their fruity bellies shrieked with each flake; cakes from all different lands: rich chocolate, fluffy vanilla, sweet strawberry, creamy cheesecakes, cinnamon carrot cakes, a tower of red velvet that oozed buttercream.

   You name the dessert, Hoyoung provided. He believed himself a modest baker, one with enough experience to craft their own recipe, but too meek to go any farther. The boy enjoyed staying in the realm of desserts and sweet treats, for the smile it brought underclassmen and campus staff set his heart aflame, and he would always raise the most money. It wasn't a brag, Hoyoung currently had nearly 200 dollars staring back at him from the large jar standing precariously on the last table's corner, he really couldn't believe people thought his baking was this good.

   "First you're pretty, you can flirt, and now you can bake!?" Hoyoung whirled and almost flattened a cupcake with how hard his hand latched onto the table. "How do you not have a partner?"

   After weeks of cheeky, drive-by winks and finger wiggles that left Hoyoung twitching, Gyehyeon appeared before Hoyoung's table and slanted his hips. He crossed his arms over a chest half-concealed by a knit sweater, and Hoyoung could have dropped dead then and there - after all, he hasn't breathed in what felt like minutes and his head began to feel light, like a balloon.

   "Beats me, maybe they're scared, too intimidated by this raw masculinity of mine," Hoyoung thought aloud, tracing a purposeful hand down his neck.

   Gyehyeon scoffed and picked up a yellow cupcake. "You make bumblebee cupcakes," he deadpanned, now bent and hovering over the table.

   Hoyoung saw the world tilt, almost ready to crack into two before words flew from his lips: "It's how I lure bees like you to my honey. Care for a taste?"

   The blonde blinked. Hoyoung only now took note of how he also bent over the table, hands now holding him up for dear life; they strained to keep himself afloat, his head above water.

   Then Gyehyeon laughed, causing a few heads to turn and look too long for Hoyoung comfort. The blonde plopped the cupcake down after his episode, to which the crowd bracketing the other tables still whispered about amidst the roar of the courtyard, and began piling a plate with every dessert Hoyoung offered. He stacked brownies atop miniature pies, and before long, Gyehyeon stood with a heap of sweets, and Hoyoung watched with glazed eyes, feeling like he just took a plunge into ice.

   "God, you're something else," The blonde mumbled, just loud enough for Hoyoung to perk up and see him curl two 20s around his fingers and slide them into the jar. Gyehyeon walked back towards a table beneath the shade of a tree and motioned with his head to follow.

   "Why don't you join? Share some of this honey with me," Gyehyeon called out.

   Hoyoung heard the younger's request miles away. Something in him burst. He felt it unfurl along his arms, down his legs, until it consumed him and made the very bones on his body vibrate, made his soul batter against his heart like a rebellious bird. It was as if he got throw against a brick wall, dragged through mud, then sent through a car wash with knee braces. Hoyoung felt beaten, destroyed, a rag doll a puppy thrashed about with before it got flung into its water bowl and discarded. Hoyoung felt...played, yet he wasn't angry. This was Gyehyeon's game, he wanted Hoyoung to feel this way.

   Then it clicked. Gyehyeon wasn't this way because he wanted to be - however, he would admit it was fun - but because it allowed him to pick out the weeds, the rotten tomatoes amongst a garden. He played this twisting, deceitful game in order to find the very best person for him. Gyehyeon didn't get close with people because he trusted no one, sure, but he didn't give them the time of day, nor the air to breathe, if they wouldn't respect his basic wants, things as simple as personal space. He lured them in with flounce and sass, with the barest hint of something more, before ripping the lollipop away and pouring acid down their throat. It burned, and oh how it hurt, but those who truly cared would bandage themselves up and try again. Gyehyeon was a princess trying to find his perfect prince, one how could not only recuse him when seldom needed, but honor him like the crown atop their heads.

   These strikes were Gyehyeon's three chances at something more, his flash of a future that entailed so much more, and he wanted to see who could pass all the trials, not explode into a raging storm of profanities and stalk off.

   Gyehyeon curled a finger towards Hoyoung, like a dancing inchworm, and the latter smirked.

   "Hey Kangmin," Hoyoung said, smacking the freshman out of his daydream. He sprung up from his lawn chair and shoved the last of the kabob into his mouth, staring attentively at Hoyoung, almost reverently.

   "Guard the sweet tables while I'm gone."

   Hoyoung didn't care to hear the freshman's response, for he sped to the table Gyehyeon sat at. The blonde laid back in the chair and finished the last bite of a peanut butter bar when Hoyoung slammed down into the chair across, startling Gyehyeon.

   "One way to make an entrance," the blonde commented, handing Hoyoung one of his snickerdoodle's.

   "Don't like it?" The older asked, carefully taking the cookie. He was painfully aware of how their finger's touched, the barest sliver of heat.

   Gyehyeon nodded. "Not a big cinnamon person."

   Hoyoung chuckled at this, and Gyehyeon shot him a sharp glare. "Then why did you take so many cinnamon rolls?"

   "I took three, let's not act like I cleared out the fucking table," Gyehyeon spit, faux offense dripping off his tongue. "And, there is icing on them, so much that I can't taste the cinnamon."

   The blond promptly smushed his face into the dessert, resurfacing with a beard of icing shards. Hoyoung clutched his stomach in glee, while the younger grumbled and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. When Hoyoung's eyes uncreased from laughing, he keenly noticed a fleck of icing stuck to Gyehyeon's nose, and the itch that careened through the older to reach over and swipe it away let him rigid in his seat.

   Gyehyeon was aware of Hoyoung's sudden change in behavior, and the horrible itch on his nose, so he felt it was only right to grant his wishes, move on to the next level.

   "There's something on my face, isn't there?" Gyehyeon asked, leaning forward and flaunting his nose.

   Hoyoung hesitated from a moment, a fraction of a second, before he reached and thumbed away the icing. If Gyehyeon offered, Hoyoung was sure as hell not going to deny him anything.

   "Thank you, I knew I got icing somewhere else, I'm not neat with anything." Gyehyeon rambled, tucking his chin into his chest, hiding a blush that fanned across his cheeks. How Gyehyeon got so flustered took him back. This doesn't happen easily, not this early in the game.

   "No problem," croaked Hoyoung, and he instantly regretted talking.

   Gyehyeon's mouth popped open and little strings of laughed cascaded out. All Hoyoung could do - more, make his body do amid shear embarrassment - was stuff a cinnamon roll into his mouth.

   Gyehyeon's mouth opened wider, forming an 'o' wide enough for the older's fist to fit in. "You ate my sweet, shithead."

   "I made them, smartass."

   It was just like that night at the party. All the boys did was talk, throw in some lighthearted insults, a snarky retort or two, but Hoyoung felt an intense sense of deja vu flood him and pull him out into a chlorine sea of blonde beauty and sugary sweetness. The cinnamon roll did something to him, Hoyoung thought, for he acted sluggish, almost as if he was caught in a glob of slime, or trapped in a never-ending nightmare wherein he was trying to escape a terrible monster, only to glance over his shoulder and find Gyehyeon waving sticky, jelly fingers at him. Time slowed, then stopped, then picked up again at a lightning rate, flashing before him like a camera shutter, the lens eating up the scene before him: Gyehyeon lamenting his exam experience, while Hoyoung sat like a deer in headlights, a useless facade of interest haphazardly strewn across his face.

   Don't get Hoyoung wrong, he lapped up anything that came out of Gyehyeon's ruby lips, but he was drugged, high off the intoxicating scent of the blonde's...everything.

   "I'm too scared to check my results, I don't want to face the shame of a failing score," Gyehyeon wailed, chomping off a piece of cookie.

   Hoyoung watched, but didn't. He saw himself fix his hair, then it was like the world slapped him across the face. He felt the sharp sting of its wind, the bitter taste of forgotten sugar crystals, winced at the brightness of Gyehyeon's perfect blonde dollop of hair, nearly jolted at the sun's kiss atop his neck.

   "Has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?"

   Gyehyeon paused so abruptly he almost dropped the cookie he was holding.

   "...Surprisingly no," he admitted. His voice was as delicate as the lacework on his moat of donut holes. "I've only been told I was pretty. Like a flower, or an angel."

   Gyehyeon sounded defeated, deflated. Disappointed.

   "To me, you are handsome." The blonde looked Hoyoung in the eye; his mouth shriveled up. "Like a soldier, facing a battle ahead. Or a pharaoh, basking in golden sun."

   They stared at each other for what felt like days. Seconds stretched into weeks, the sun traveled over their heads like a dog chasing its tail, eager and swift.

   Then everything stopped spinning, and Gyehyeon spoke:

   "Really?"

   Hoyoung realized he was gripping the table so hard he feared he would break off a chunk. "Why would I lie to someone like you? What's the benefit?"

   Finally, the cookie fell from Gyehyeon's hand, and the collision rippled throughout the courtyard, overturning tables, toppling sweets.

   Gyehyeon sank back into his chair like a tattered rag. "Has anyone called you pretty?"

   Hoyoung thought an arrow pierced through him; it knocked him back into his chair and stole the breath from his lungs. He felt something warm trickle down his stomach, like a rivulet of honey, and he clutched his abdomen like a clawed hand.

   Hoyoung could only shake his head.

   "Well, let me the first," Gyehyeon said, bouncing back off the chair and planting his elbows on the table. "Hoyoung, you might be the prettiest fraternity member I've ever laid eyes on."

   Hoyoung vision spiraled, a kaleidoscope of sunlight and sugar, a whirlwind of blonde hair and porcelain skin. Something snapped, and Hoyoung felt himself smiling so wide he prayed it didn't border creepy.

   "Now that we've got our mutual attraction out in the open..." offered Hoyoung.

   How he was still able to speak baffled the older.

   Gyehyeon chuckled, and it sounded like choir bells.

   "You've advanced far, but I don't think you're ready to play in the big leagues just yet." The blonde slid off his chair and plucked a donut hole of the now empty plate of sweets. "Strike two, my pretty admirer."

   Hoyoung blanked, his mind emptied, words disappeared from his tongue like smoke in the wind. A chaste press of candied lips, and Hoyoung found himself sprawled between the blankets of his bed. How many days have passed, who knows, but Hoyoung struggled through each day, as if he was carrying a ton of boulders on his back, lugging Gyehyeon's kiss with him day after day. His cheek never ceased its red hue, like it was on constant alert, a siren wailing in the backs of his mind, shouting at him for all he's done, and hollering at the things unchecked.

   It has been one week since Gyehyeon walked into Hoyoung's life, and the wreckage he's caused could make hurricanes envy him. Everything became a dilapidated house, hanging on by the thinnest of wires, supported by the weakest of beams, shrouded in spidery cloths and tarps that one gust of wind could have it crumbling. The older's life became a oil-spilled sea, fissioned by a thick line of obsession that charged through his soul like a eel, flicking its tail in hopes to jumpstart a semblance of reason, pump blood through molted veins, give life back to that lobe of Hoyoung's brain that demanded rationale, a practical explanation for the destruction of his body.

   Gyehyeon was like a lit match in a California summer, a smear of mustard on a white shirt, a shot of vodka to a lightweight like Hoyoung. His life went up in the flames of passion, a desire so fierce that a dent as big as the older's hand to his pride was nothing more that a pebble in his shoe: annoying, but can be dealt with later. Yet, that later was decided upon not by him, oh no, for Hoyoung would have deemed now as later, and took Gyehyeon right then as he knew they kindled something, so why not add lighter fluid and watch the wisps of flame eat up the night sky, drink the stars like they were silver candies, a pill that could take both boys away. However, that later that Hoyoung longed for would never come if Gyehyeon had the reins; no, for the blonde's cunning game was to dwindle the older down until he was nothing more that a sputtering mess, a husk of his former self, a shadow that followed Gyehyeon around like a lost child, sick with fear and sorrow.

   And while it all sound so cruel in Hoyoung's mind, he would gladly open his mouth if Gyehyeon would be the one administering the poison.

   Two days felt like torture. How Gyehyeon hasn't crossed paths with Hoyoung is borderline sorcery, hell, the older was purposefully walking near the dedicated gym for college sports players every free second of his day. Yongseung and Minchan pitied him; how Hoyoung, their beloved president, had been wrung out, shredded, then spat onto hot concrete and left to dry sent a tidal wave through the fraternity. He was becoming this madman searching for glory, a hungry mortal devouring all in sight just for another taste of godhood. Gyehyeon was a cloud hovering over Hoyoung's head, taunting him with his rose petal lips and that saucy cut of a mouth, and thundering when the older grazed the skin of the blonde's nose, the noise a dangerous mix of disapproval, goad, and flirtatious hunger.

   Three days became inhumane.

   Four days and death loomed its hooded head just beyond Hoyoung's bedroom window.

   It was driving the older promptly mad, and right as his lecture ending, he sped out of the hall and into the nearest bathroom, ready to bring up his breakfast when his shoes stuck to the floor.

   Gyehyeon was pressed up against the sink, leaning into the mirror in attempt to tie a scrap of cloth around his neck, when in reality, it looked as though he was hurriedly trying to strangle himself before someone opened the door.

   Too late, thought Hoyoung miserably.

   At the sound of the bathroom door closing, the blonde flinched, as if he was truly trying to tie a knot around his throat, but sighed when he saw Hoyoung.

   "Oh, it's just you. Good," he breathed out, pushing the knot free from around his collar and watching it dangle.

   Hoyoung noticed how he didn't relax; his shoulders remained taut, bunched.

   "Would you mind helping me?" Gyehyeon asked, a sheepish blush streaking down his neck.

   This was new. It was usually Hoyoung who was flustered, not the handsome blonde who was now leaning against the sink as the older stepped between his legs.

   "Not at all." Hoyoung was breathless, yet again.

   "Do you know how to tie a proper tie?"

   "Yes." Hoyoung pinched the end of the cloth and brought it up so both boys could see. "Would you like me to do that?"

   "Please," Gyehyeon said, and Hoyoung heard a whining lilt to his voice, and underscore of a need so powerful it took a few seconds for Hoyoung to break from his trance and begin working.

   Once Hoyoung tied the cloth into a decent tie, he kept his hand on the cloth and trailed it down until he clamped the middle of it. Gyehyeon didn't seem to notice, and if he did, it didn't bother him, for he looked to regain his sass and don his usual sultry mask.

   So much for something new.

   "Thanks," Gyehyeon said.

   Hoyoung felt normal for one second before an accusation rammed against the backs of his teeth. It wrenched his mouth open and swan dived out.

   "You've been ignoring me, haven't you?"

   The blonde recoiled. He looked hurt, like it was the first time someone saw through him.

   "Maybe for a day, how can I face someone that made me blush as furiously as I did that day?" Gyehyeon's voice was a mixture of accusatory and playfulness, like how one might confront a child. "After that, I've been trying to find you."

   Whatever negative emotion Hoyoung was feeling flew out the window the second Gyehyeon hinted that he finally captured his attention, won this godforsaken game. Yet, in the recesses of his mind, he knew this wouldn't be the end. Gyehyeon was a drug, you can't just throw it away and be done with it; he would stay wrapped around the blonde's finger until he found an antidote strong enough to knock him out.

   "You have? Because it seems to me that you've been running away."

   "Who said I wasn't? I was running away from practice last Wednesday to find you. Skipped lunch and snuck around fraternity houses in hopes I would catch a glimpse that pretty face."

   Hoyoung jolted, and in doing so pulled Gyehyeon closer by his tie.

   The boys now stood toe-to-toe.

   "All because of me? I find that hard to believe," Hoyoung whispered, a touch of malice burning his tongue. "Do you know how long I've waited for you at that fucking gym?"

   Gyehyeon giggled, curling his lip in towards his teeth and nibbling at it. Hoyoung almost dropped to the floor.

   "Oh, Hoyoung, I don't go to that gym, but I appreciate the gesture. Next time, you should do it outside my apartment."

   The blonde leaned in, and Hoyoung felt his heart stop, his blood freeze, his feet lift off the ground.

   Gyehyeon kissed Hoyoung like he was his long-lost lover, his partner returning after years at sea, a soulmate that would only appear once in his life, and that was right now. The younger held onto the sink until his knuckles flared white, and Hoyoung squeezed his tie so hard that his fist shook, but all that mattered was that Hoyoung pressed back harder, with more passion that Gyehyeon has ever felt. It rushed into his mouth and down his throat, coating everything it touched with this film, a greasy layer that the blonde could only described as raw, uncultivated, violent love, a feeling so vehement that it choked Gyehyeon until he pulled away and stalked out.

   Hoyoung retracted back into his body when Gyehyeon fled, and all he felt was a searing cold. An ice that wound around his legs and rooted him to the floor, twined around his neck and pulled, circled his heart and sank fangs into the muscle that glinted like jewels. He felt stripped of his worth, a cast left to rot in the wind. When Gyehyeon left, so did all the warmth, the light, the meaning of Hoyoung's fruitless venture.

   There was once warmth, a splintering, blistering heat that fried the air from his lungs and melted the skin of his lips, and now there was only a cold so fresh that it spiked along his limbs like icy pins, swords with the intent to drag Hoyoung's pain until he couldn't bear it any longer.

   And Hoyoung was nearing his end.

   He would follow that warmth until his legs gave out.

   Hoyoung exploded out of the bathroom and charged down the hallway - lucky for him, it was abandoned, for he looked like a boiling teapot turned human. He found the boy a few corners down, leant in a recess of the wall, holding his head in his hands, tugging at his hair. As the older stomped closer, he heard whimpers, like those of a crying dog.

   Hoyoung was blinded by both desire and persistence, so the only thing he thought of to do was shout.

   "Don't you fucking dare say that that was strike three, because that kiss meant something so much more than a fucking reward in a game."

   Gyehyeon looked up and smiled, a weak lift of his lips. "Look whose the one running now?"

   Hoyoung raked a hand down his face and staggered in a circle. Eventually, he planted his hand high above his head, caging Gyehyeon in the recess and hunching over his like a fallen tree.

   "You don't know what you've done to me," Hoyoung rasped out, the words cutting his throat.

   "Then tell me," Gyehyeon said.

   He cupped a hand around Hoyoung cheek, and it felt like the clouds from heaven. The older looked into Gyehyeon's eyes and searched for something, anything, that this wasn't another sick act, some manipulative tactic to have him groveling at the blonde's feet for the rest of his sorry excuse of a life.

   A flicker of light, like a candle, or a match, and Hoyoung was spilling words like a punctured dam.

   "Ever since that party I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, game or not. You're the most handsome person I've ever seen, and it was like taking away oxygen from a dying man. I didn't care that you used me for your sadistic pleasures, I just wanted more, but I think the facade began to crack when I gave you those sweets - well, when you took them."

   Hoyoung heaved. He felt like he was drowning.

   A quick swish of a thumb brought him back.

   "I saw you start enjoying yourself. This performance you put on for people isn't going to last for long, so why keep it up for someone who truly cares for you? Yes, I'm obsessed, but you made me. The strikes, the touches, the teasing! It's like waving meat in front of a lion them snatching it away at the last minute. It's cruel...yet I want nothing but that. So why push me away? Why hide behind a mask when I'm here, opening my arms."

   Hoyoung saw Gyehyeon bring his other hand to his other cheek. "Waiting," Hoyoung croaked.

   The blonde pulled Hoyoung close, pecked his forehead, then drew back.

   "While I enjoyed your analysis, you got me all wrong."

   Hoyoung nearly bent in half. He wanted to double over and vomit, gouge his eyes out and feed them to himself, twist his intestines into a knot so tight he might never uncoil them.

   "I do this so I can find the pearls among oysters, roses in a field of daisies." Gyehyeon's hands glided down to frame his neck, forming a ribcage of fingers at the nape. "And you are the finest rose I've ever laid eyes on."

   "So I was right..." Hoyoung mumbled. He mentally slapped himself, watched as he stumbled into a hole and hit the bottom.

   "Hmm?" Gyehyeon noised, pulling Hoyoung so that he could stand in-between the blonde's legs again.

   "I was right about one thing," Hoyoung said, winding his arms around the younger's beautiful waist. "You make me obsess over you every single time."

   Both boys slanted their mouths onto each others before another word could be said. They saw air as useless, something mundane when tongues and teeth became all that was needed to survive, the valleys of their mouths the key to eternal life. Lips were bitten, tongues were wreathed, and sounds were swallowed. This recess became their escape, their little haven they could run to and hide from the rest of the world, somewhere where they felt safe and loved, or was it the arms that braced each other like steel bars, cementing them to chests that rippled and pounded, galloped and shuttered. Their hands became their minds, guiding them deeper and deeper into a well of greed that before long, they began to drown, gasping for air that never came, again replaced by a tongue made of molten gold, fingers slicked in ecstasy and lips of liquid honey.

   Hoyoung had rip Gyehyeon off his neck by his hair so he could talk properly.

   "Instead of waiting outside your apartment, how about I go in with you?"

   Gyehyeon whimpered and nodded violently, lacing their hands together and darting down the halls.

   "So," Hoyoung called out as they clambered down their stairs of the arts building, "was that strike three?"

   Gyehyeon slowed and yanked him onto his chest. Another sloppy tangle of lips, then he said:

   "No. You hit a home run. But I'd take you even if you were out."

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

holy shit this is the longest thing ive ever written-

it started off well, got sour, then reallyyyy picked up so,,,,,,do with it what u choose

turning 18 in two days!!!! might barf!!!!

till next time <33